


Do You Wanna Date My Avatar?

by featheredtips



Series: You And Me Baby Ain't Nothing But Pixels, So: [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Gamer AU - Freeform, M/M, MMORPGs, Opreversebang, opreversebang2016, they are all incredibly sociable geeks, trafalgar law and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 18:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8112481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/featheredtips/pseuds/featheredtips
Summary: Law really should have thought things through before agreeing to associate further with the Strawhats. It's obvious that the entire guild is bleeding mental. Their guild leader is also the actual worst.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Entry for this year's [opreversebang](http:///opreversebang.tumblr.com) on Tumblr! In joint collaboration with the one, the only, lovely [Aya](http://aya-m.tumblr.com). You can find her beautiful artwork for the piece [here](http://aya-m.tumblr.com/image/150815621999). The event's spawned a lot of other amazing collaborations, so go ahead and check them out if you're interested, heheh!
> 
> Edit: Aya is also an honest-to-god angel, so she made some text edits for the artwork to become this fic's cover art. I am not worthy. Please worship the cyberground she walks on. (Have I told you lately that I love you? BECAUSE IF I DIDN'T, REMIND ME. ILU AYA BB!)

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

“Oh, hey, hey, hey, _hey_ —” Law snarls under his breath, clicking on speed boosters as his tank charges straight for the dungeon’s boss without waiting for the rest of them to catch up. He curses as PirateKing’s HP starts going down in alarming chunks. Once he’s in range of the idiot, Law tosses out a series of frantic heals, then casts a physical debuff on the boss before tapping out something in squad chat.

**TraLOpe: Chop, you good on primary heals?**

**ChopmanRox says: yea go for it**

**ChopmanRox says: debuffs** **urs i get squad buffs**

**TraLOpe: Sure.**

Not for the first time since he made the decision to respond to the “any class +1” call in world chat, Law is wearily grateful that their squad has a second cleric. They would’ve squad wiped a couple of times already otherwise. This isn’t just because Law is principally a nuke cleric but also because the Strawhats haven’t displayed an ounce of tactical forethought the entire time that they’ve been in the Sabaody instance. Law blames their guild leader who has ostensibly led the charge.

Law uses a spell to amplify his own damage, then lets rip his most devastating AoE. He’s not big on aggro-tagging, but PirateKing’s HP bar is about to give him an aneurysm from stress— it’s clear that he’s the primary damage-dealer as well as tank, but Sabaody’s final boss has a nasty magic defense debuff that hits heavy-armoured classes like PirateKing’s berserker especially hard.

Law’s spell lands its crit hit just as the boss spawns a bunch of adds.

His life is a fucking tragedy so, _of fucking course,_ the adds are left with the most negligible amount of HP possible, but nonetheless very much alive. And angry.

They turn in tandem towards him, all eight physical damage-dealing mobs, hungry for Law’s very mage, very light-armoured blood.

Law hits all of his health potions pre-emptively even as he stacks heals on himself. This turns out to be an embarrassing overkill when Onikiri goes sweeping past him in a whirl of ridiculously rare and difficult-to-obtain triple blades. The blademaster disposes of the mangy, pixelated beasts before more than two of them can take another bite out of Law.

Up front and personal with the boss alongside PirateKing and Onikiri, the squad’s assassin whips through every single DoT skill in her arsenal and subsequently takes over adds aggro so smoothly that Law forgets about them altogether. He’s free to aggro tag tank the boss with PirateKing, but a quick survey is all it takes for Law to channel everything he’s got into playing support instead.

PirateKing holds boss aggro in a way that Law has never seen a berserker-class player do before. It’s ridiculous how uninterested the boss is in Law who is one of the highest damage output mages on the Grandline server. It’s something he achieved through the combination of an excessive amount of game time, part-time job earnings, and a calculated abuse of stat points. Idly, he makes a note to check out the berk’s stats when they’re done.

Besides, it’s not as if he hasn’t heard of the Strawhats before.

Everyone has.

They’re one of the smaller exclusive guilds making waves on the server for guerrilla raids that used to be unthinkable for unestablished, no-name guilds. Bigger guilds like Baroque and MFord have been trying for months to absorb the Strawhats.

Looking at them now, Law can understand the interest.

Apart from the seamless follow ups on PirateKing’s madness, some of the Strawhats are names that Law recognises. He didn’t know that Onikiri had joined up with a guild. He’s always been one of the more notorious PK players on the server, perhaps even more so than Blackleg who, at one time, dominated PK ranks as the Vinsmoke guild’s top assassin. Law’s run up against her a couple of times and only survived those encounters because he had one of the quickest channelling times on the server.

ChopmanRox is a decent cleric and Sogeking, as far as Law can tell, is a top notch archer as well. It makes Law curious about the remaining Strawhats, what they do, what classes they are and, more importantly, _why the hell_ they decided to join up with the most _reckless_ player Law has ever met.

He swears under his breath when PirateKing’s considerable HP bar careens down to almost nothing. Law temporarily abandons debuffs to make a mad, snarling dash for his heals. They’ve been in the Sabaody instance for almost two hours now and he’s not about to risk a wipe because some idiotic, suicidal tank finally bit the dust. Distantly, he’s aware that ChopmanRox has also switched to focusing heals on PirateKing. There’s an immediate drop in all the HP bars across the screen when their squad is hit by an AoE.   

It’s another few tense minutes of brow-furrowed focus and Law’s finger jammed stubbornly on his heal macros before the boss falls and loot drops. When it finally does, Law slumps back into his ergonomic chair, feeling like he needs to catch his breath. That’s also when his chat box explodes with a wall of green squad text.

He grimaces at the utter mutilation of his player name.  

**PirateKing says: HEYYYY TRAPPY GD JB!! tot i ws gna die for a min there**

**ChopmanRox says: ty 4 e support and debuffs Trppy!**

**ChopmanRox says: THIS IS Y I KP TLNG U 2 BUY HP POTS B4 U RUN OUT DURING A RAID BUT DO U LISTEN?! NEVER!! @ PirateKing PUT YOUR COMMS BK ON SO I CN YELL @ U PRPRLY**

**PirateKing says: dun wanna D:**

So that’s what happened.

Law entertains the brief notion of robbing one of them blind in PK just to replenish the mana pots he lost through this endeavour.

**Sogeking says: srsly? listen to chopper u idiot**

**Sogeking says: btw, sick nukes man! gj troppy**

**Blackleg says: lol not too bad out of PK**

**TraLOpe: Thanks. You too.**

**Onikiri says: u pk ? @TraLOpe**

Onikiri has something of a reputation for picking fights that Law doesn’t have the time for, so he types out a cautious response.

**TraLOpe: Sure, but only if I’m ganked first.**

**Onikiri says: cool**

**Blackleg says: don’t even think about it, onidumbdumb, he’ll mace you. his channelling’s sick.**

**Onikiri says: stfu blondy**

Law is determined to get away before things degenerate further. A glance at the clock tells him that he’s expected at his part-time in about an hour. It’s just outside the university campus, a short distance away from his apartment, but Crocus is anal about his employees arriving on time.

Law hums tunelessly to himself, eyeing the litany of insults that Blackleg is dishing out to Onikiri whose replies are becoming less and less coherent.  

**Sogeking says: guys srsly**

**Blackleg says: wasabi coloured dipshit for brains**

**Onikiri says: f u gdi urw dng dis on purpoes**

**TraLOpe: Gtg. Thanks for the run.**

**_YOU HAVE LEFT THE SQUAD._ **

The instant he ports into a nearby town, notifications start popping up on his screen— friending requests from Onikiri, ChopmanRox, and PirateKing, which Law accepts. It won’t hurt to have acquaintances like them in-game. He raises an eyebrow when a PM box flashes open immediately in the corner of his screen.

**PirateKing: y ja leave! play w us agn nxt time**

**You: I’ve got somewhere to be. And sure, it was a good run. Thanks.**

Law pauses, fingers hovering over the keyboard, then types again, a wry twist to his lips.

**You: You guys always do raids like these?**

**PirateKing: ya!**

**You: Do you usually wipe?**

**PirateKing: almost nvr heheh**

**You: Oh? Like just now?**

**PirateKing: yea hihihi**

**PirateKing: ure grouchy huh**

**You: And you’re reckless.**

**PirateKing: lies!!! D:**

**PirateKing: u liked it tho :D rite?**

**You: Sure, as much as any cleric would. Pots are there for a reason.**

**PirateKing: whres the fun in tt D:**

**You: Figures.**

Law leaves it at that and opens his in-game mailbox instead. The notification icon has been blinking in his sidebar since halfway through the run. He scans its contents with mounting ire.

It’s evident that Penguin has been at the auction house again. His spoils are clogging Law’s mailbox with apothecary manufacturing items— herbs, flowers, powders, the usual. Sorting through the lot takes Law a good twenty minutes because his guild member is an asshole and chooses to send the mats over in bunches of ten instead of stacking them in the hundreds like normal people do.

As he does a dignified sprint into Crocus’ vet practice half an hour later, Law remembers belatedly that he never did check PirateKing’s stats before logging off, but he’s distracted from that train of thought by Bepo tumbling into the back of his knees with an excited bark. He winces, giving a guffawing Kidd the discreet bird, and reaches down to scratch the Samoyed behind its ears anyway. Bepo snuffles, pleased with the attention, before going off to chew on Kidd’s branded leather boots like a champ.

Law smirks, settles down, and begins his shift to the music that is Crocus destroying Kidd for cussing in front of impressionable, school-going children.

 

* * *

 

 

Mid-week sees Law seated on the plush green velvet guest seats in the nicest office on campus.

Taking a gap year despite being on scholarship is the best decision Law’s made in a while— the impossible result of a compromise he reaches with his dean, bargained for through a number of terse meetings and no small amount of emotional blackmail against the upper echelons of the university.

His foster uncle would have been proud. Not that Law wants anything to do with Doflamingo, not since he emancipated himself from the Donquixotes eight years ago. Not that _that_ matters, because Sengoku still manages to give him grief for upsetting Rosinante. There are moments where Law grudgingly acknowledges that he would have given more thought to the way he’d left Rosinante’s care if he’d known that the president of his future university would be his foster father’s unofficial foster father.

Moments like these.

“Absolutely not,” he says, eyeing the open manila folder on Sengoku’s desk.

“I’m not giving you a choice, Law.” Sengoku’s smile is not a kind one. His glasses are slightly askew from repeated jostling when he rubs at his nose bridge. “It’s a direct request from the board.” And just like that, Law knows whose fault this is, because there’s only one person in the university who can make Sengoku “the Buddha” look like no amount of meditation in the world will ever be enough to restore his good faith in humanity again. “You know how Garp can be.”

Law doesn’t, not really. But he’s heard the stories and he’s very much invested in not acquiring any sort of first-hand knowledge.

“I’m not tutoring his grandson.”

“You’re not really in any position to refuse,” Sengoku says, then frowns, sighing heavily through his nose and pins Law with a look that Law knows would cow lesser academics who didn’t grow up with the Donquixotes. “But, if you insist, there’s a different position—”

“All right,” Law interrupts. “I’ll take that instead.”

“—in Caesar’s labs. He fired his last assistant again and has put in a request for you. Specifically.”

Law doesn’t blanch only because he’s not going to give Sengoku the satisfaction. Not when the man already looks so smug. Law scowls, silent for a few moments, then reaches for the small sheaf of papers on the desk. His last stint with Caesar very nearly ended in manslaughter on his part and it wasn’t an experience he hopes to revisit any time soon, if ever. That said, Law’s not sure what to make of the picture that beams up at him in greeting as he surveys Garp’s grandson’s profile— there’s more teeth in it than any other discernible part of the freshman’s face.

“I’ll take the kid,” Law mutters, conceding defeat. “When do I start?”

Sengoku breaks his steepled fingers apart and reaches across his desk to give Law a couple of firm, condescending pats on the shoulder. Law bears the gesture with the fortitude of one resigned to the gallows, an effect further achieved by catching sight of the true atrocity that is Monkey D. Luffy’s grades. Law’s a certified genius, not some miracle worker.

Not that Sengoku gives a fuck.

“So glad you’re seeing things my way,” the president says with a merry grin, already rummaging around a cupboard for the rice crackers he habitually offers all visitors to his office. Law accepts a proffered one so that he can scatter spiteful crumbs into the expensive carpeting of Sengoku’s office. “You start next Monday.”

 

* * *

 

Garp’s grandson turns out to be a right little shit.

And Law hasn’t even met him yet.

The library in the business college is a thing of beauty— state-of-the art-architecture, cushioned study booths, closed-door discussion pods with bay windows overlooking the lush campus grounds, and everything any desperate, overachieving university student could possibly need right down to the tetchy librarian who’s never got on with Law.

However.

Absolutely nothing can redeem Law’s favourite library when he’s been waiting in it for close to two hours for some wayward freshman to show up. There’s only so much lesson planning he can do in advance when faced with a glaring series of ‘F’s on a report slip. He doesn’t think he’s ever met anyone who’s failed the mandatory 101 Communications course.

Fuck everything. He’s missing a special event raid for this too.

Law stands and stalks to the exit just as the large clock in the corner of the room displays 13:00. His hand makes it to the door just as it swings violently inwards. There’s a sharp crack when his hand collides with the heavy door and Law stumbles backwards just as someone charges into the room at a full run.

Monkey D. Luffy skids to a halt before further injury can happen to either of them. He blinks owlishly at Law, a smudge of something orange on one cheek, and reeking of the cafeteria. Sweat-mussed, wind-swept dark hair sticks out from under his straw hat, and there’s a ratty-looking satchel swinging from the kid’s shoulder that seems to have papers and post-its following in its wake—there are some people spectating the trail past the door that Luffy’s holding ajar.

Law stares at it all, cradling his smarting wrist in disbelief.

“Oh, _man_ , sorry!” Luffy slams the door shut and _bounds over_ – there is no other way to describe the way he moves – to peer up first at Law’s face, then at his hand with the same sort of vague, curious commiseration that Law usually reserves for roadkill. “I didn’t see you there, there was this _queue_ in the café and everyone knows you can’t do nothing on an empty stomach so I thought you’d be at lunch too so I went ahead and got mine then Usopp had this amazing new project – he’s from Design yanno, I’m Luffy by the way – that he was showing off and I _had_ to see it only I didn’t think it’d take as long as it did so I ran over. Hey, how’s your hand? You’ve eaten. Right? Sorry I’m late! And about the door.”

He stops there, an expectant look on his face.

Law takes a deep breath, the motion of which Luffy traces with interest.  

“Punctuating,” he says after a weighted silence, voice even and calm despite his temper going into overdrive, “ _like punctuality_ , is important—”

He looks down his nose at Luffy and doesn’t sneer at what is clearly the very special basketcase that Sengoku is going to regret saddling him with. Rosinante _clamours_ for Law’s rare phone calls— he can easily dedicate half an hour to a whinge about Sengoku’s abuse of power.  

Law tries rotating his wrist, only to abort the movement midway. That feels like a sprain. Though, given the sound earlier, he’ll be lucky if it isn’t a hairline fracture. The freshman doesn’t look nearly sorry enough just yet, but he will once Law is done paying him back for two hours of wasted time.

“—so we’ll start there, Mr. Straw Hat. Take a seat.”

 

* * *

 

 

**PirateKing: hey trappy wanna cm for TB?**

**Can’t.** Law taps out, sullen. **Sprained wrist.** Then, **Get pots.**

**PirateKing: D: naggy cleric**

**PirateKing: tot we were frens**

**You: You’re aware we just met, yes? You’ll need pots if you’re going to tank Thriller Bark if not a healer.**

**PirateKing: dun wanna use pots. cm with us!! cmon! we nd u**

**You: What part of sprained wrist wasn’t clear to you?**

**PirateKing: owch hwd tt happen?**

**You: Nothing much, idiot clipped it on a door.**

**PirateKing: shdnt call urself an idiot trappy D: u sound smart**

That startles a laugh out of Law.

**You: Thank you. Wish I could say the same.**

**PirateKing: HEYY!!! D: <**

“Oh- _kay_ ,” Penguin drawls into the comms, sounding so smug that Law straightens up in suspicion even though none of his guild members can see him. “Disembodied laughing is creepy even by your standards, Boss.”

“Aw, don’t fuss,” Shachi says before Law can respond. “He sounds happy. For once. What’s not to like?”

“Bootlicker.”

“Emotionally constipated teaspoon.”

“Tsk. You’ve got us mixed up. Y’see, that’s our esteemed leader—”

“Why do I put up with this?” Law wonders over the bickering. He shifts PirateKing’s chat box aside so that he can track his squad’s location on the mini-map. “What happened to finishing up the dailies?”

“I know it’s surprising, but they’re actually doing it,” Jean Bart says, unwilling chaperone and beacon of deadpan reasoning in the murky waters that is two of Law’s best guild officers doing the virtual flirt on their official DenDen channel. “Would’ve been back already if Penguin didn’t use the wrong debuffs.”

Penguin clucks his tongue. “I was distracted.”

Shachi’s laugh is boisterous, sharp and delighted. Law can almost hear Jean wince.

“I’m flattered.”

“Not _you_. By _Boss_.”

“Okay, that’s just insulting.”

“ _Hey,”_ Law interrupts, pained, because he actually sees them at the university on occasion and he could do without the flirtation happening both online and offline. “Just get on with it.”

“Touchy,” Penguin grumbles. “To think you sounded like you were sexting a minute ago.”

Jean’s unhappy grunt is exactly how Law feels about that comment. What he does say in response, however, is a cool, “ _That_ is none of your business.”

This elicits dour complaining from Shachi and juvenile catcalling from Penguin that Law ignores. He occupies himself offscreen by looking through Luffy’s atrociously misspelt essay, the one forcefully wrested from the freshman during their last session. Halfway through decimating a paragraph with red ink, Law demotes Shachi and Penguin to lowly executors because they’re still making a ruckus. He then mutes them on the guild’s channel for good measure just as he hears the twin gasps of outrage. There’s nothing he can do about the chat features in-game, so he watches, a slight curl at the corner of his mouth, as his two best take to the world chat to air their grievances.   

**bestWarriorx0x0: LFM for Sab run, pm class + level 4 inv pls**

**SuchaCoolDude: HEY @TraLOpe U WANKER UNMUTE US & TALK 2 US ABT UR FEELINGS**

**Hungerpengs: THE LEADER OF THE HEARTS IS A DESPOT!! DUN JOIN US YOU WILL SUFFAR11!!!11**

**Hungerpengs: UNMUTE US BOSS LET US BACK WERE SRY**

**CutiePIErotechnik: LF tank for PH, quick run, level 90+ only**

**AshRiser: LF a family/company on quests/runs/TW? Join Moby! All classes level 50+ welcome. PM for more info.**

**Hungerpengs: U CANT DO DIS BOSS**

**Hungerpengs: WE HV RIGHTS!!!!**

**bestWarriorx0x0: LFM for Sab run, pm class + level 4 inv pls (3/6)**

**SuchaCoolDude: @TraLOpe @TraLOpe @TraLOpe @TraLOpe @TraLOpe @TraLOpe COME OUT AND TALK LIKE A MAN**

**CutiePIErotechnik: LF tank for PH, quick run, level 90+ only**

**BlackLeg: oho? guild drama? someone make popcorn and share**

**SuchaCoolDude: DONT FEED OFF OUR SUFFERING**

**CutiePIErotechnik: LF tank for PH, quick run, level 90+ only.** **HOWZZABOUT U @BlackLeg**

**BlackLeg: seriously? i’m good but we’ll wipe, man. you and i, smooshed up sin and wizzy pie**

**CutiePIErotechnik: well… if** **ur gnna b like tt**

**Hungerpengs: Bossssssssssssssssssssss @TraLOpe unmute ussssss! we wnt tease u abt ur gf if u do**

**SuchaCoolDude: bet shes cute tho**

**Hungerpengs: bet shes the cutest**

**CutiePIErotechnik: LF tank for PH, quick run, level 90+ only, no squishy sins like @BlackLeg**

**BlackLeg: hey now don’t bemirsch my good name**

**bestWarriorx0x0: LF tank for Sab run, pm class + level 4 inv pls (5/6)**

**CutiePIErotechnik: NO! TANKS- B MY TANK FIRST! I HV COOKIES**

**SuchaCoolDude: cute girly making boss smile**

**Hungerpengs: and laugh**

**SuchaCoolDude: must be an angelllll**

**Hungerpengs: must b a saint**

**BlackLeg: lolol i wanna meet this chick @TraLOpe**

**CutiePIErotechnik: GDI take** **dis 2 ur GC u n00bs, gtfo WC so i cn find my tank D: <**

**Hungerpengs: we’ll go whn we get our freedom of speech bck**

**SuchaCoolDude: ^** **tt. you want someone to blame? go harrass our leader**

**CutiePIErotechnik: gd idea. HEY @TraLOpe since this is ur fault, cm tank PH 4 me**

**CutiePIErotechnik: n get ur ppl off my WC ffs**

This precedes a wall of pink-coloured whisper text from Law’s friends list ranging from sympathy to good-natured taunting to Onikiri’s almost taciturn **lmfao**. CutiePIErotechnik takes to spamming squad invites that Law prudently ignores. They’ve spoken a couple of times, given as good as they got in PvP, even squaded once to make a bunch of lowlife PK mage gankers regret the day they were created. But apart from that, they’re hardly friends, more friendly rivals if the game’s rankings are to be trusted. Law avoids high-profile, loud players like CutiePIErotechnik— he’s got enough on his hands with his guild alone as it is.    

He shakes his head, making a wordless noise of amusement, before proceeding to mute and minimise both the game and his DenDen Comms. There’s preschool-standard spelling vying for his attention that will be the reason for the disappointed lecture Rosinante is going to give Sengoku about blackmail and adult responsibilities.

He almost has a heart attack ten minutes later when the in-game PM notification shatters the silence of his dutiful, focused trawl through grammatical hell.

Law stares at his screen as it flickers on from idling.

The game client stretches across the screen, PirateKing’s chat box situated front and centre, scrolling rapidly upwards with line after line of text. Law scans it as he reaches gingerly for his mouse to call up the settings interface. He could have sworn that he minimised everything, including the chat boxes, and the in-game notifications are almost never off mute.

**PirateKing: k. we wiped**

**PirateKing: u dnt wnna cm save us? :(**

**PirateKing:** **choppers busy tday**

 **PirateKing: pretty pls** **trappy?**

The game is still muted. The only sound is coming from PirateKing’s chat box.

Law frowns.

It’s not often that the game glitches in any major way, so it could just be Law’s ancient SeaKingWare finally croaking its way into an inevitable grave, but he opens his browser and logs onto the game forum anyway. Best send a ticket to enquire about it, just in case.

He switches back to the game while the page loads, huffing a laugh as he rereads PirateKing’s chat before typing out a reply.

**You: So I’m your last resort. That’s nice.**

**PirateKing: D:!!!!!!**

**PirateKing: no tts nt wat** **i meant!**

 **PirateKing:** **trappyyyyyyy**

Law snorts, then tabs back to the forum page and submits a ticket. In the five minutes that that takes him, PirateKing manages another seventeen lines of piteous begging, resorting to an ingenious one-liner made up solely of boutique-purchased chat emojis.

Law huffs a laugh as he accepts the new squad invite that has started chiming at the top of his screen.

 **TraLOpe: Fine. I’ll come** **along, but don’t expect me to be of much use. You’d better have pots @PirateKing.**

**PirateKing says: YAHOOOO TOLD U GUYS**

**Onikiri says: lol gj, wb trappy**

**BeingofDarkness says: Ah, the infamous Mister Trappy? We’ve heard so much about you. Thank you for joining us.**

**SuperBF says: YO MAN WELCOME ONBOARD**

**BoneToBeWild says: Excellent! Our company is complete! Welcome @TraLOpe.**

Law grimaces at the squad make-up— a berserker, guardian, mesmer, blademaster, and bard.

No wonder they wiped without a healer.

He sighs in resignation as he tracks himself to the nearest teleportation point.

**TraLOpe: Thanks.**

**TraLOpe: I have one hand out of commission, but let’s see what we can do.**

What they actually manage to do is damn near squad wipe about a hundred times before they’re done three and a half hours later. Law spends the entire time feeling outpaced, out-of-place, and incompetent. It’s only BoneToBeWild’s unique bard resurrection buff on Law that saves them all at one point. But they make it, even if Law’s wrist is aching something fierce.

It’s the most fun Law’s had with the game in ages and he hates himself a little for it.

Still, he accepts the friending requests from BeingofDarkness and BoneToBeWild when they appear, partly because they punctuate and capitalise, but mostly because they’re some of the most terrifyingly skilled support class players Law’s ever had the pleasure of working with. It appears that the Strawhats live up to their hype. PirateKing was still an unparalleled tank, stealing aggro from their guardian almost immediately at the boss and leaving SuperBF with the task of preventing the squishy mages from wiping all at once.

This time, Law remembers to check out those stats before he leaves.

They turn out to be fairly standard for a berk at the level cap.

It’s the gear that really throws Law.

Law knows first-hand what the best kind of gear money can buy looks like. He owns those, crafted by high-level player smiths with in-game mats paid for with credit. Even then, there are parts to his full set that he’s still working on, mats that can’t be bought, that have to be earned in dungeons that change with new content added to the game after each expansion. The gear that PirateKing has is as good as it gets in the game, beyond what cash can buy, with gear slots that are also imbued with special stat scrolls and durability gems from rare events. Some of them have names that Law vaguely remembers seeing once in a post about early beta-testing stages.

The most eye-catching thing about PirateKing’s gear is the name of its maker.

 _RedHairedS_ , it reads, bolded in scarlet in the description boxes of all his gear— the font colour of the game moderators.

Law doesn’t fuss – it’s not like the gear is programmed to be invincible like the GMs’ – merely excusing himself and logging off. He’s just surprised that no one else has made more mention of PirateKing. Some other players must have noticed and it would be just like them to react like jealous children.

He wonders at the implications until he notices the time and groans. He’s got the early shift and another session with Luffy coming up in less than five hours. Grumbling, he collapses into bed, burying under the covers.

The last thing he sees is the glow from the desk lamp that he neglects to switch off.     

 

* * *

 

_New Personal Message: Forum Notification_

_You have just been sent a personal message by Baltigo Inc. on Romance Dawn: The Journey._

_IMPORTANT: Remember, this is just a notification. Please do not reply to this email._

_The message they sent you was:_

_TraLOpe,_

_Thank you for your ticket. Please allow us three working days while we look into the bug. In the meantime, please let us know if the issue persists. If necessary, we recommend that you contact the GMs via the GM chat feature in-game so that they may look into your problem directly._

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Well, there’s that.

Law puts his phone away and looks up in time to see Luffy frowning down at his own. They’re still only acquaintances, having just had a handful of sessions so far, but Law hasn’t seen anything except for distraction and gormless smiling on that face till date.

“Problem?” he finds himself asking.

Luffy’s gaze flicks to him, searching, before going back to whatever he’s reading.

“Nah,” he says with a shrug. Law doesn’t comment on the lack of elaboration, just turns back to the papers that are spread haphazardly across the discussion table. In his periphery, he watches Luffy type something quick on his phone, before tossing it back into his satchel with a flourish. He then flops in an ungainly sprawl over one of the office chairs, using his toes to drag himself over to Law. “’kay,” he says, with an exaggerated little sigh, looking out the window. “Let’s go back to the boring stuff you were talking about.”   

Law doesn’t quite roll his eyes because he’s as invested in this as the freshman is, but he taps his pen on Luffy’s nose in reproach anyway. Luffy wrinkles his nose, but grins, though his gaze is still trained out the window.

It’s a beautiful late afternoon and Law can hear the muted hum of conversation from outside. There are shadows of dappled gold cast into the room by the changing autumnal foliage just beyond the building. Following Luffy’s line of sight, Law is struck by a sudden understanding of the restlessness Luffy is showing.

The freshman does look at him, uncomprehending, when Law begins sweeping their papers up and tidying them into a bundle. He slips them into Luffy’s satchel and hefts the lot, holding it out to its owner.

“The lesson?” Luffy asks, relieving Law of the heavy satchel easily. He’s looking bewildered but more alive than he’s been throughout the past hour.

“I need coffee,” Law lies, standing and heading out the door, working a palm against the kinks in his neck as he goes.  

“I can’t drink coffee,” Luffy says, sounding rueful even though he traipses obediently after Law.

“Then choose something else.”

“I want juice! Apple! Or orange? Or both! Thanks, Traffy!”

Something about the name nags at him, but Law is too busy swallowing the _get your own fucking drink_ that’s on the tip of his tongue to pay too much heed to it. Because. It’s a nice day, no need to ruin it by being a miser. Luffy’s also smiling wide enough to light a lamp at twenty paces and that’s more distracting than Law thinks it has the right to be.

“Yeah, whatever,” he finds himself saying instead.

Law ends up buying drinks, snacks and, finally, dinner, but at least they get through prepositions and a spirited debate on the merits of run-on sentences.

He’s only slightly horrified when this turns into a routine of sorts, where they venture outdoors during their sessions, weather permitting, in order to cater to Luffy’s incessant need to fidget and Law’s corresponding need for fresh air the more time he spends in Luffy’s overly exuberant company. Eventually, he gets used to depositing Luffy at his dorms, a happy, well-fed ball of human being who will wind long spindly arms around Law in a brief hug before disappearing into the building.

It doesn’t exactly increase productivity or the ease with which Luffy digests Law’s lectures, but Law makes his way home every Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays with a warm, pleasant feeling buzzing in his gut. So he stops questioning it.

 

* * *

 

 

This must constitute as some kind of abuse. Nothing else explains this situation or why he’s suffering through it otherwise.

Law hasn’t accepted the Strawhats’ invitation to their DenDen channel even though they invited him a month ago, but he’s struck by a strong need to do so at present just so he can inform PirateKing, in no uncertain terms, just how much of an arsehole he is.

**You whisper: FFS TELL ME YOU DIDN’T RUN OUT OF POTS AGAIN**

**PirateKing whispers: oups <3 **

Law doesn’t even have time to see red before he’s draining another one of his precious events potions just so he can power through the random boss debuff that one-hits most mages and keep PirateKing alive all at the same time.

He’s the only cleric on the squad again, an alarming trend he’s started to notice whenever he runs with the Strawhats’ guild leader, which means that he’s stuck with primary heals, debuffs, _and_ squad heals, and— _do none of these fuckers use their own pots_?

Law’s winged-elf cleric is as magely as it gets but no amount of magic is going to be able to resurrect an entire squad if they take a full wipe from depending solely on him for heals. They’re three fucking hours into the mind-boggling dungeon of the new Summit expansion, so Law will truly lose his mind if everyone’s combined stupidity results in them having to reset the goddamn map and play again from the start. They’re all surviving on Law’s godly magic stats and truly divine reflexes, never mind that he’s going to develop carpal tunnel in both his hands from constantly jamming on his heals and ruin himself for a future career in surgery.

**Mister0 says: istg I’m never running with you again King**

**DeathWink says: ^ ur** **hv v bd ideas** **kingboy**

**PirateKing says: awww**

**Bugstheclown says: jfc focus u bastarsd**

Law doesn’t bat an eyelid at the exchange between PirateKing and Baroque’s leader or Revolutionary’s top executive. If he’s learnt anything after associating with the berserker, it’s that he’s somehow acquainted with all of in-game royalty and has half of the GM team eating out of his hand. KnightOfTheSea is similarly reticent, though probably because the guardian is too busy drawing add aggro away from Law’s squishy arse to be able to type.

The squad claws its way to the final boss.

There, they wipe in such a spectacular fashion that Law is left staring at the screen, nonplussed, for long moments, stunned by a combination of adrenaline and disbelief.

**PirateKing says: wow ow**

**Bugstheclown says: WTF WAS THAT**

**Mister0 says:** **stacked burn debuff, where the hell was puri, cleric**

 **TraLOpe: I did use Purify.** **But the debuff is constant. You’ll need another cleric/support** **to tank through** **this DoT.**

 **DeathWink says: tts y i say u nd a wiz or bard** **kingboy**

**PirateKing says: aw but i missed playing w u guys**

**PirateKing says: reset?**

**KnightOfTheSea says: sorry, i’ve gtg pick up my kid**

**Mister0 says: i’m out too**

**PirateKing says: awwww, ok :(**

**DeathWink says: nxt time**

**Bugstheclown says: thx 4 the crazies as usual man, was fun**

Then it’s just the both of them left.

 **Again?** PirateKing asks, and Law can almost feel the hopeful expectancy radiating from beyond his screen. He checks his f-list and counts the number of Strawhats who are now online. They can probably do it if CatBurglar is their wizard. ChopmanRox is also online, so are Onikiri and BlackLeg.   

 _Sure,_ he says, because he’s come to expect some really crazy miraculous shit from the smallest guild on the server.

And he’s right to do so.

Several hours later, they become the first squad to conquer the Mariejois instance of the latest expansion.

 

* * *

 

 

Between his sessions with Luffy, juggling his part-time, and socialising more than he ever has online, winter creeps up on Law faster than he anticipates. Winter break means that Law doesn’t see Luffy for a good month and a half for their thrice-weekly sessions. While this is excellent because cooping Luffy up indoors out of pneumonic weather drives Law insane and skyrockets his blood pressure (how is one freshman so talented at being _irritating_ ), it leaves him with a sudden surplus of time on his hands that he’s unsure what to do with.

He ends up taking more shifts at Crocus’ twenty-four hour vet practice. There’s a new substitute covering for Kidd who has fucked off to some beach on vacation with his girlfriend for the rest of break. A good thing too, since Law actually gets along with the new replacement. Tony is a shy freshman in vet school who’s pleasant to work with and whose major is actually relevant enough for Law to hold a conversation on without having to just listen to lyrical waxing about mech engineering bullshit.

Law spends the rest of the holidays rotating between that and spending an unhealthy amount of time in front of his computer.

He and PirateKing are starting to earn a bit of a reputation for themselves on the Grandline server. This is particularly the case after they cleared the Dressrosa instance with just the two of them one very slow, snowy Monday morning, using new armour upgrades and an obscene amount of specially manufactured pots that Law forces on the berserker. Law’s become familiar enough with PirateKing’s playing style to be able to improvise and keep them both alive.

By the time New Year’s comes around, the Hearts and Strawhat guilds have become fast allies, a fact that can be appreciated on both sides because Law’s guild is comprised exclusively of clerics apart from Jean Bart’s guardian who was a whimsical, spur-of-the-moment recruitment.    

Luffy keeps Law updated with sporadic snippets on what’s happening at the family reunion that he’s been dragged back home for, complete with pictures of when his brothers accidentally burn down the kitchen during Yule. Law can appreciate a picture where Monkey D. Garp is looking absolutely incandescent with rage in the background, even if he doesn’t begrudge the man as much anymore for foisting his exasperating grandson off on Law. 

It’s one of the best holidays that he’s had in a long time, all things considered.

So, it comes to the natural conclusion of him being kidnapped by his psychotic foster uncle.

Doflamingo has the worst timing in the world. He ambushes Law just as Law is getting in from an overnight shift at Crocus’, ready to sleep in before the new semester begins and he has to see Luffy early the next day.

“Did you break into my flat?!” Law demands as he struggles, uncaring that he might rouse his neighbours.

It comes out less enraged than he intends for it to because it’s muffled into the back of Doflamingo’s outrageous pink mink fur coat. He’s been thrown over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes and is being carted towards the vehicle he knows is waiting downstairs. Associating with Doflamingo has always been like being plunged into an off-kilter mafia soap opera. He tries to bite his uncle, intent on acting every inch the thirteen-year-old that he’s being treated as. When that only elicits an infuriating laugh, Law tries to knee him – unsuccessfully, because everything about the Donquixotes is ridiculous, including their physiology – in the balls.

“What would you have me do?” Doflamingo says, placating in the way he probably knows infuriates Law. “You don’t write, you don’t text, you don’t pick up our calls, you ban us from your home, you don’t visit…” Doflamingo tosses Law into the backseat where he proceeds to strap him down with all three available sets of seatbelts. Law doesn’t fight it, because he doesn’t want to spend the entire trip to his childhood home in the trunk of the car. “You’re making Rosi sad. I don’t like that.”

“This, right here? This upsets me. _Rosi won’t like that_ ,” Law snipes back, making one last ditch attempt to kick Doflamingo in the face. The man dodges it with the same ease that he ignores his nephew’s snark. “How are you so good at body-snatching? I always knew you were a crook.”

“I’m a shady businessman,” Doflamingo replies, a grin stretching wide across his stupid fucking mug. “There’s a slight difference. Now sit tight and don’t try anything rash like getting out in the middle of the expressway.”

They arrive at the Donquixote compound in Spider Miles some two hours later because Doflamingo drives like he’s above the law. Given how many traffic regulations he flouts and how many speed traps Law sees that they pass by without incident, his uncle probably is.

Rosinante is as surprised to see him as Law expects.

“Law?” he says, blue eyes going impossibly wide when Law stumbles into one of the numerous sitting rooms they have, courtesy of Doflamingo’s manhandling. Law doesn’t know which is worse— Doflamingo who doesn’t give a damn about his little brother, or the Doflamingo that does. The Donquixote brothers have always had an unconventional relationship that Law doesn’t ruminate on for the peace of his own mind.

Something pinches him in the back. Law shoots his uncle an acidic glare. It’s not like he can say anything about what Doflamingo’s done to Rosinante’s face. Not when Rosinante’s features have melted into a picture of relief and affection as he rises and strides towards them. He trips twice before managing to reach over and engulf Law in a bear hug. Law feels the fight drain from him because it’s been a long couple of years since they last met face-to-face and he’s always loved Rosinante, has missed the man more than he cares to admit. So he gives in and winds his arms around his adoptive father, returning the embrace.

“Hey, Corazon,” he says after clearing his throat, the pet name tumbling unbidden from his lips. He’s left feeling even more awkward and guilty when the grip around his shoulders tightens. He ignores the pleased laugh from Doflamingo behind them.    

He’s coerced into staying for lunch, and then tea, and then, finally, for the night, because now that he’s actually back at the Donquixotes, Doflamingo doesn’t need to try and make him stay. Rosinante’s light suggestions are more than enough incentive, just like they’ve always been.

It’s after dinner, over the generous spread of confectionery that Baby 5 has prepared, when they broach a topic Law doesn’t expect to hear about from his foster family when he gives them a recount of what he’s been up to.   

“Garp’s grandson?” Rosinante says with some surprise, sucking absently on a finger that he’s just dipped into scalding coffee. The topic seems to pique Doflamingo’s curiosity too, because he abandons the documents he’s been perusing quietly next to his brother and leans over to swipe some macarons off Rosi’s plate. “He’s enrolled?”

When Law gives an affirmative, Doflamingo makes a noise of interest.

“Really?” Doflamingo’s chuckle is low and languid in the way that Law has come to understand means he’s pleased about acquiring useful information. “Last I heard, he’s the only son that Dragon’s got and he’s already working on minor projects. He’s a programming whiz like his father. I doubt he’ll have any problems inheriting that blue chip when he’s twenty-one whether or not he graduates.”

Law raises an eyebrow at that because, while it’s true that the Monkey D.s are a fairly distinguished family not unlike the Donquixotes, no one has ever had to suffer the full extent of Luffy’s academic incompetence the way Law has. They’d managed to scrape him an average grade in Communications 101, but that’s more than Law can say for the rest of Luffy’s other general modules.

His foster father laughs at the expression on his face.

“Doffy’s telling the truth for once, Law,” Rosinante says, ignoring the affronted look that his elder brother throws him. Then he furrows his brow thoughtfully. “Sengoku must have known this.”

“Oh,” Law says, blank in the way he knows Rosinante will latch onto like a bloodhound. He sighs and very carefully does not show how pleased he is when his foster father’s lips press thinly together at the sound. “ _Sengoku_ —”

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, Rosinante insists on coming along on the car ride back to Law’s place, so it takes them a much more reasonable three and a half hours to make the trip back to the university. However, this also means that Law is late for his scheduled meeting with Luffy at the library, with a dead phone and no way of contacting the freshman.

He enters the discussion room two hours late, half expecting the room to be empty.

Only it isn’t.

Luffy is holed up in a corner of the room on the window seat under the big bay windows, fast asleep. There’s a truly eye-searing white-and-red striped wool coat draped over his slim frame. Law notes that Luffy’s straw hat is scrunched to the side, half resting on his face where it’s pressed into the seat’s upholstery. Luffy doesn’t stir even when Law tries to wake him by placing a hand in his hair.

It’s the first week of the new semester after the festive season, so the campus is still mostly a ghost town, and it’s not like Law has anything in particular he has to do that day. So he makes himself comfortable, using his own coat – an extravagant gift from Doflamingo that makes him look like a gigantic prick but is thick and warm – as a backrest against the window seat, then settles onto the carpeted floor to wait.

When he wakes, it’s still only early evening, but the room is already dark, and the heat is getting to be a little cloying.

Luffy is a drowsy weight in his lap, having moved sometime during his nap from his perch on the seat to sprawl on the floor beside Law. His face is buried into Law’s middle, where Law can feel each breath as they fan out against his light sweater. Luffy’s eyes are warm and heavy when Law rouses him by stroking his cheek lightly. They spend some unspoken moments just staring at each other in the half dark.

They don’t speak about it when they finally do get off their arses so that they can get dinner, but Law thinks that Luffy’s parting hug lasts for a fleeting second longer than usual. He lingers, without really meaning to, and watches Luffy make his way to the dormitory double doors. When Luffy turns, as though sensing his gaze, his returning sunshine grin leaves Law feeling like he’s been punched in the chest.

Law trudges home in the light snow, with butterflies in his stomach, and a revelation tickling at the edge of his mind that he pointedly ignores.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’re right-handed?” Luffy asks without preamble a few days into the month of February.

They’re in Law’s flat, bundled up warm in the kitchen because the weather is still too cold for venturing outdoors for anything but necessities. Luffy is still insufferable when kept indoors and Law’s patience still wears too quick for anything productive to be done then, but there’s something about being in his own space that makes everything a little more bearable.

Law considers the timbre to Luffy’s voice, a quality that he can’t quite place, and pauses in his marking to eye the freshman. Luffy’s expression is thoughtful, which is so uncharacteristic that it keeps Law from making a quick dismissal and going back to the session as he usually would have done.

Law does a few deft twirls with his pen—first in his right hand, then his left, before switching back to his right. Luffy follows the motion, a rare look of concentration on his face.

“Ambidexterity,” Law says, a whisper of a smile to his lips when Luffy’s gaze snaps back to his face with a confused tilt to his head. “I can use both. It’s nice to have if you’re a med student.” Then adds, meaning to lighten the strange mood, “or when people like you introduce themselves by causing bodily harm to others.”

If anything, the odd look on Luffy’s face becomes more pronounced and Law is left with the feeling that he’s missed something important.

A heartbeat later, the tense atmosphere dissipates.

Luffy goes back to his usual obnoxious self, nudging at Law to hurry up with work so that they can go for an early dinner before the evening rush hour. Never mind that they had to start later today for some reason that Luffy won’t disclose.

Law puts the peculiar moment to the back of his mind, not quite forgetting it, but paying it no attention. It’s difficult to dwell on one particular thing when Luffy is being a loud, constant stream of chatter by his side, bouncing between topics, aimless and carefree.

They end up going out for groceries to bring back ingredients to cook with because Luffy has discovered a newfound way of coaxing meals out of Law. He does this all with loathsome ease, sloshing food and drink all over the place at Law’s expense.

Luffy stays later than he usually would have if they’d gone out for a meal instead, so Law finds a reason to walk him back to the undergrad dorms even though they’re not on the way. The steak – or steaks in Luffy’s case – that they had for dinner makes Luffy soft and happy in the way he usually is after being well-fed, so the walk through the damp cold is pleasant, intermittently punctuated by Luffy’s inane laughter.

When Law reaches home, PirateKing is waiting for him as usual, but instead of goading Law into yet another one of his harebrained schemes, PirateKing sends him a DenDen channel code. Not the one that the Strawhats have been trying insistently to get him on, but a different, private one that Law stares at for long moments before plugging in his comms and keying the code into the DenDen interface.

At the first word PirateKing utters into the comms, Law comes to an abrupt understanding about the strangeness of Luffy’s behaviour earlier that day, as well as a hundred other coincidences and mysteries that he’s encountered in the past half a year.  

“Hello, Traffy,” PirateKing—no, _Monkey D. Luffy_ , only scion of Monkey D. Dragon, President of Baltigo Inc., says into Law’s earpiece.

Luffy sounds exactly like he did when he was going on about the importance of sea shanties over dinner. Exactly like he did when Law indulged him to see the quicksilver changes in expression that flitted across Luffy’s features, thrown into sharp relief in the wavering candlelight and highlighting the point of Luffy’s chin, the curve of his cheeks, and the slope of his neck. Candlelight from the candlelit dinner they had because the power tripped halfway and Luffy was inexplicably amused by the idea of potentially causing a fire in Law’s flat. Not that Law would have given a damn about potential fire hazards, not when he’d been too busy watching the play of light in Luffy’s eyes.

Law takes a deep, steadying breath.

Then, understandably, hangs up.

 

* * *

 

 

There’s something to be said about coincidences and how small, in general, the world is.

Law thinks about just that when Luffy barges into his workplace a fortnight after Law starts aggressively avoiding him by not going to the university or logging onto the game or going back home, really, crashing on the spare couch at Crocus’ or frequenting his foster father’s place instead.

He considers Tony Choperman, who is edging away towards the exit where Luffy is letting all the heat out by holding the door open in a damning parody of their first meeting. Law wonders why he’s never paid more attention to Tony’s last name or the fact that Luffy seems to know everyone whether it’s in-game or out of it.

“ _You_ ,” Luffy says, stalking up to the counter and slamming his palms against the marbled top.

All that Law can think about is that it’s such an unfortunate time for there to be no customers at the practice, and that Crocus just so happens to be on an emergency house call.

The weather’s been getting warmer, so Luffy’s shed his ridiculous coat for something lighter but not nearly warm enough. His cheeks are flushed from the cold or his temper, Law can’t tell which. Just like how he’s having problems parsing out why Luffy is at his workplace creating a commotion even though something niggling at the back of his mind tells him he does, but is too much of a coward to face up to it.

“ _Law_ ,” Luffy hisses, and that gets Law’s attention because he’s been functioning under the impression that Luffy will never call him anything else but mangled derivations of his actual name. His gaze snaps to Luffy. “You’ve been avoiding me.” Luffy doesn’t phrase it like a question, knows perfectly well that that’s what Law’s been doing, and is blunt enough to put it straight.

“Yes,” Law agrees slowly, unsure where this is going, because his mind is still drawing an insistent blank. So much for being a certified genius.

“Why?”

“… That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Law mutters, wishing he could look away, but Luffy is electric when he’s angry, standing tall, and feeling like he’s crowding into Law’s space even from across the counter.

Luffy growls something wordless and strangled at Law’s response, then startles the fuck out of Law by vaulting over the counter and sending both of them crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs and overturned office chairs. Distantly, Law registers Tony’s shout of concern, but his attentions are immediately wrested by the fact that Luffy has grabbed him by the collar and is yanking him forward.

He sees literal stars when his forehead cracks against Luffy’s.

“Think harder,” Luffy suggests through gritted teeth, which is so hypocritical that Law tries to protest despite the throbbing pain in his temple. But he’s robbed of the ability to do so because Luffy presses impossibly close and cover’s Law’s mouth with his own.

It’s not a chaste kiss, though it doesn’t last for more than a few brief seconds.

The press of Luffy’s mouth against his is hard and furious, and Law can feel his lip splitting because everything Luffy does has more force and passion than finesse, but it instantly soothes the suffocating anxiety that Law didn’t notice had been coiling in his gut for the past two weeks.

Law curls his fingers into Luffy’s dark nest of hair and yanks him gently away. He sees the flash of indignation and hurt in Luffy’s brown eyes in the time that it takes him to slip an arm around Luffy’s waist and use the grip he has to tilt Luffy’s face.

Then, Law kisses him properly.  

Luffy stiffens, restless hands spasming at Law’s collar, before he surges into the kiss, sliding both arms to wrap them around Law’s neck.

They don’t part for long moments, not until the bell above the front door rings, signalling that they have company. Even then, Luffy remains straddled across Law’s lap, fingers playing distractedly with the hair at the base of Law’s neck as he watches Law with a scrutiny that makes Law’s chest ache. They hear Tony diverting Crocus’ attention away, but Law is more concerned with the boy whose mouth he’s tracing the outline of with a thumb.

“I didn’t like it when you hung up on me,” Luffy says darkly, pressing his cheek into the cup of Law’s palm. His mouth is downturned, eyes still agitated.

Law says nothing, conveying his apology by bringing both hands to Luffy’s face instead and brushing his thumbs against the cheekbones there.

Then he draws Luffy close and presses their lips together again.  

 

* * *

 

Law doesn’t think his flat’s ever been this stifling before.

Or rowdy.

“Okay, _look_ , if you’re going to be as much of an arse in real life, maybe you should just stick to being a bitch online, you _piece of_ —”

“Refreshing, isn’t it,” Nami says dryly over the din as she walks by with a drink she’s procured for herself from Law’s personal stores. “And you didn’t think Zoro and Sanji could get more annoying than they already were online.”

In response to that, Law shoots a narrowed glare at Luffy from the corner of his eye and says, “You have some of the worst ideas.”

Luffy looks up from his laptop where Law knows he’s corresponding with his brothers and grins, unrepentant, then tucks his toes further under Law’s thighs from where they’re sharing the couch. Law grumbles, but allows it.

All the various surfaces in Law’s tiny flat that can accommodate a laptop and a mouse are occupied with players from the Hearts and Strawhat guild. Shachi and Penguin are in a corner pretending not to flirt. Next to them, Zoro and Sanji are trying actively not to punch one another and get blood all over the cream loveseat that Doflamingo had annoyingly picked out as a gift when he heard about exactly who Monkey D. Luffy was to his nephew. Jean Bart has Bepo curled up in his lap and is conversing with Tony in low tones, their laptops forgotten off to the side. 

It’s the beginning of summer and nothing can redeem the weather or the fact that Law is willingly putting himself through a skyrocketing utilities bill to cater to Luffy’s whims, as well as all the friends that accompany him wherever he goes.

Nothing.

Except, maybe, the intimate smile that Luffy sends his way when he notices Law’s gaze on him. The one that makes Law think of lazy mornings and dark eyes peeking out from under rumpled covers, the one that precedes the sleep-rough greeting that will have Law pushing Luffy back against the sheets.

Law rolls his eyes without heat, then flicks his fingers against Luffy’s forehead, a small smile of his own curving at his lips when that rewards him with Luffy’s soft laughter.

“I’m leaving you for death if you go in without pots again. See if I don’t.”


End file.
